Crabbe and Goyle's Crabble Drabbles
by HAGRIDandHARRYsexy4EVA
Summary: It's late at night. Crabbe and Goyle crept quietly into THEIR Room of Requirement…
1. The Room of REQUIREMENT

Crabbe moaned loudly and gasped in ecstasy. He and Goyle were in the Room of Requirement – and they truly did have everything they required.

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The End.


	2. Unexpected Poo

Crabbe had a flab,

Goyle had a boil,

And when they got together,

Their pants they did soil.


	3. The Magical Splatter

Crabbe and Goyle shot each other secret smiles as they dressed each other in their Hogwarts robes. It was the morning after their adventurous night in the Room of Requirement, and they were as happy as two chubby cucumbers could be.

"Hehe," said Crabbe cheekily as he rubbed his bottom against Goyle's back. "You know you love it."

"Of course I love it," replied Goyle merrily. He tied Crabbe's belt around his waist, but had to do it twice because he couldn't remember how. "Let's go and get some pumpkin juice. I'm starving from all our exercise."

"Do you want me to feed you, Greggy?" asked Crabbe, pinching his nose affectionately.

Goyle giggled. "Oh, yes please!"

They skipped into the Great Hall hand-in-hand, boyish grins plastered across their faces. "Food time, Greggy!" Crabbe exclaimed in glee. "Our favourite time of the day."

"No," Goyle stopped skipping and whispered huskily into Crabbe's ear, "only our _second _favourite."

Crabbe's body parts throbbed in desire and anticipation. He shot his friend a seductive glance as they took their seats alone, at the end of the Slytherin table.

"Look Vincey! The pumpkin juice has turned a shade of dark yellow! I wonder what's different about it." Goyle rubbed his chin in thought. He wished his hands would be scratched because of this action, because that would mean that he would have stubble. But he didn't. So he rubbed his palm across Crabbe's chin instead.

"I bet you the Dark Lord has charmed it to give us special superpowers!"

"OK, let's drink all of it then! Here's a straw, Vincey. Come on, sip up." Goyle placed a wet sloppy kiss in between Crabbe's eyes.

Crabbe briefly contemplated putting his hands down Goyle's pants in return, but Draco strolled past the two touching each other and rolled his eyes. "Not again," he muttered.

Crabbe tipped his head back and swallowed almost half of the Pumpkin Juice with a gulp and a squeaky hiccup. "Wow, try some, Greggy! It's really nice!" He looked around for another straw, but none of the others were pink, so he let Goyle use his own.

Goyle stared affectionately at the straw and remarked, "Look, Vincey. It's a pink stick! Just like _yours._"

Crabbe struggled to contain his craving.

"C'mon, you love birds," Draco drawled from behind them. "We have potions class now."

Crabbe and Goyle reluctantly stood up from their seats and followed Draco to the dungeons, silently communicating to each other that they would meet in the girl's lavatories at lunch for more sweaty action.

They arrived at class two minutes early. The only other people there were Harry and Ron, who seemed to be silently snickering about something in the corner.

"You'll be making love potions today," announced Snape. Ron snorted, and Snape looked as though he was considering giving him a detention. Apparently not. "Not strong ones," he continued, "just enough to last several hours."

"Vincey! I can give you some love potion!" said Goyle, suddenly excited.

Crabbe shook his head, "I don't need any, I already love you, Greggy!"

Crabbe took a vile of leech juice and took a bunch of silverweed back to their table. The silverweed smelt badly of a mixture of mould and jelly. Goyle flattened his nose with his palm in an attempt to rid his senses of the unpleasant odour.

"They'll be getting much worse than that," Ron muttered indistinctly from two desks away. Harry snorted and tried in vain to contain his laughter.

"What's so funny?" asked Hermione, who had just arrived.

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance and managed to keep a half-straight face. "Oh, nothing..."

"What have you gone and done now?"

"Nothing!" insisted Harry, though he could not stop himself smiling. "Let's just make this potion."

Whilst Hermione cut up the silverweed, Harry and Ron tried to concentrate on stirring. It was difficult; they continued to spare glances two desks away, where Crabbe, Goyle and Draco were preparing their own concoction, clearly unaware of what was about to happen.

"Five, four, three, two, one..." Harry murmured, looking at the watch on his left wrist. "C'mon, it should happen any moment now..."

And suddenly, Crabbe and Goyle felt the most unusual sensation take over their bodies. Their stomaches rumbled and gurgled simultaneously, and suddenly, they felt themselves lose control of their bowels. They gasped widely at one another as poo after poo splattered from their bottoms, emitting loud and unappetising squeaky sounds in the process. But the poo would not stop. Crabbe and Goyle didn't know they had so much in them. They felt their pants gradually being weighed down by the new baggage in their underpants, and finally, with a soft _pop_ their buttons broke off and their pants slid halfway down their hips.

Crabbe and Goyle regarded each other with horror. What had just happened?

After a few stunned moments, Goyle broke the silence. "I guess it's okay though," he reasoned discretely. "I mean, look on the bright side. We _had_ been having awful bowel blockage issues."

Draco, still oblivious, was busy emptying the last of the ingredients into the cauldron when he suddenly looked up suspiciously and scrunched his nose in disgust. "What's that smell?" he demanded with a glare at the couple.

"Dunno," Crabbe replied guiltily, "probably the silverweed."

Harry and Ron were watching everything. They gave a loud snort and burst into a fit of laughter, clutching their sides and almost knocking the cauldron to the floor.

"Oh, really," snapped Hermione. "Calm down, I need someone to stir this!" She put her hands on her hips. "Come on, at least share the joke. What on earth is so f-"

But at that exact moment, a loud, ear-splitting screech rang around the room, so loud that it made Hermione jump. Harry and Ron briefly fell silent and looked up, realised what had happened, and howled into laughter again so loudly they fell over. Even Hermione was unable to suppress a smile.

Draco was staring dumbfounded at Crabbe and Goyle. They were both standing awkwardly, clearly unsure of what to do, because both of their pants were now wrapped around their ankles and filled with hot, steaming poo.

Snape placed his beady stare on the two guffawing Gryffindors in front of him. "Thirty points off Gryffindor for inappropriate behaviour," he said smoothly, before shifting his gaze to the back of the room as he wondered what by the name of Merlin was so hilarious that the two idiots felt obliged to disrupt his class.

His vision narrowed down to the two brown piles situated between Crabbe and Goyle's legs, which had enticing smoke spirals travelling out towards him. Snape froze as the smell made its way to his nostrils.

"Oh," he said, in a complete state of shock. For once, he was speechless. "I have to… I-I'll just get Madam Pomfrey," he sputtered out quickly, before dashing out the door with lips desperately pursed closed.

Crabbe and Goyle glanced at each other sheepishly. "Wanna go to the girls' lavatories now?" Goyle muttered.


	4. Slytherin House Orgy

Classes had just finished, and Crabbe and Goyle went to take their daily afternoon shower when they saw a notice plastered on the door.

**ATTENTION ALL STUDENTS:**

**DUE TO THE SEWAGE PIPES OVERFLOWING AND BURSTING** – Crabbe and Goyle exchanged guilty glances – **ONLY ONE SHOWER PER HOUSE IS AVAILABLE. PLEASE LIMITS YOUR SHOWERS TO TWO MINUTES EACH.**

Crabbe and Goyle gasped in horror.

"Two minutes?" gaped Goyle. "But I need at least fifteen to get in between all my fat folds!"

Crabbe nodded. "Me too."

"Hey, Vincey?"

His eyes lit up. "Yes Greggy?"

"I have a great idea!"

For Goyle to get an idea was a seemingly very rare occasion, a great one at that was near to impossible. So Crabbe listened intently, almost doubting his own lover, but soon came to the conclusion that it was very great indeed.

"I know how we can make our showers longer!" exclaimed Goyle.

"How?"

"If we shower _together_!"

Crabbe gasped in excitement. "That _is_ a truly great idea indeed. But Greggy..." he trailed off.

"Yes, Vincey?"

"I have an even _better_ plan!"

A shiver went up Goyle's spine. The tone in which Crabbe had uttered those six words sent all wrong thoughts into his mind. He wished that they were in the Room of Requirement now, so that he would not have to mask his desires.

"Greggy? We can get even longer showers by finding as many Slytherins as possible to shower together! Let's make a sign up sheet now!"

The first person Crabbe and Goyle were to ask was Draco. They approached him in the Slytherin Common Room corner, confidently carrying their large scroll of parchment under a fat, sweaty arm.

"Hey Draco," said Crabbe. "Have you seen the news?"

"What news?" he asked.

"There's only one shower per house, and we only get two minutes each!" Goyle held up his and Crabbe's parchment, labelled up the top in messy writing: _CRABBE AND GOYLE'S SINE UP SHIT_. "We were wondering if you wanted to shower with us, then we could all have.. erm... what is two times three?"

Draco stared.

Then rolled his eyes.

Then stared some more.

The second person Crabbe and Goyle approached was Professor Snape. After Potions class had ended, Professor Snape had taken one look at the two boys, remembered the Day of the Poo Incident, and quietly tried to slink away before they could notice.

However, Crabbe and Goyle were very smart cookies. When they wanted something, they would get it.

"Professor Snape?" Crabbe asked in a sweet voice. Goyle felt incredibly aroused.

Snape stopped at the doorway and turned around to face them. "Yes?" he asked impatiently. His voice sounded nasal, as if he were blocking his nose to diminish the tantalising odour of Crabbe and Goyle.

Goyle cleared his throat and straightened his back importantly, shifting the large scroll of parchment to beneath his other arm. "Would you like to join us in the shower tonight?"

Snape blinked once and closed his mouth, pursing his lips. A grease droplet slid down his nose. "I... I beg your pardon, Mr Goyle?"

Goyle thrust the parchment under his long, hooked nose. Snape smirked slightly as he read their misspellings, but then shook his head.

"Please, Professor?" squeaked Crabbe.

Goyle loved it when Crabbe squeaked; it was the same type of squeak he did when he was reaching the climax of an orgasm. "Yeah, you could do something about your hair!"

Instead of deducting ten points from Slytherin for being insulting to a teacher, Snape hesitated in his breath. Hmmm. Yes. He _did_ need to get rid of this hair problem. There was probably enough oil on his head to spill and intoxicate the ocean.

"Perhaps," he said slowly, "I will."

He remembered having a nightmare in Fifth Year. He and Lily were eating breakfast together in the Great Hall, when Lily had stood up violently from her seat, put her hands on her hips, and declared: "I won't talk to you anymore until you wash your hair."

Snape shuddered at the memory. "Yes," he repeated. "I certainly will."

"Good," Goyle said in a business-like manner. He thrust a chubby finger at the first line on the parchment. "We're conducting our sessions by popularity. So far, 8:30 to 8:40 pm has been the time block most in-demand. However, we can change it to suit your needs."

Snape pushed the parchment away and fixed his beady gaze on the two Slytherins. "That time will be fine," he replied stiffly. "Now please return to your Common Room."

By that night, it seemed almost the entire of Slytherin House had agreed and signed to Crabbe and Goyle's _'SINE UP SHIT.'_ After a scrumptious, six-course meal, they snuck down into the bathroom.

"How many people are sharing our shower?" asked Pansy Parkinson, who had just emerged.

Crabbe looked down at the parchment, and took four and a half minutes to count all the names, because he messed his order up after 'fifteen' the first time. "I think... fifty-seven," he said.

Pansy looked pleased. "Someone told me Professor Snape is going to join in too, is that true?"

Goyle nodded. "Yeah! We stole twenty-eight bottles of shampoo from Gryffindor for him."

Pancy wrinkled her nose in contemplation. "Hopefully that'll be enough," she said.

"What's the time?" Goyle asked.

"Seven thirty, I think."

"Vincey," Goyle muttered so that Pansy was unable to hear. "We have one and a half hours. It'll take us twenty minutes to take off our clothes and prepare for the shower, so that leaves us with forty five minutes to go to..."

"...the Room of Requirement!" Crabbe finished off with a triumphant glance. "Greggy, you are a genius!"

Goyle smiled. "I know."

Pansy had paled significantly as she realised what Crabbe and Goyle had been discussing. "Okay, I'll just... go now," she said in a high-pitched voice. She would try to find Draco so that he could kiss it all better. He would let her snuggle under his bed sheets and would tell her bedtime stories.

Crabbe and Goyle ignored her. They were too busy staring into each other's eyes.

"Let's go," said Goyle.

They skipped hand-in-hand down the corridors, extra sure to thump into the back of Ron Weasley when they happened to pass him.

They found the Room of Requirement within no time at all, happily obeying to their desperate needs. Crabbe and Goyle spent exactly forty minutes moaning and groaning and gasping in ecstasy, though Goyle almost suffocated when Crabbe's flabs fell over his mouth half way through.

In the last five minutes, they took each other hand-in-hand and skipped back up the corridors towards their climax of the very sexy day.

There was a long line to the Slytherin showers, but they managed to push their way to the front very quickly by smothering everyone with their fat folds.

"Make way! Make way!" Goyle boomed. "We are the leaders of this shower session!" They shoved their way through a very disgruntled Snape and Draco, who rolled his eyes.

Everyone was naked.

"Professor Snape!" Crabbe cried. "I didn't know yours was so small!"

"I think there's a potion to fix that," remarked Goyle.

Suddenly, the door opened with a loud bang and several people screamed. "MAKE WAY! MAKE WAY!" Hagrid boomed louder. "I HAVE COME TER JOIN!"

Everybody was too busy gawping at the hairy throbbing stick in between Hagrid's legs to turn his request down.

Especially Snape.

Crabbe was the first to break the silence. "Hagrid!" he cried again. "I didn't know yours was so big!"

"Yer," Hagrid grunted. "Weighs meh down the entire day! Hurts ter move it!"

"I think there's a potion to fix that," remarked Goyle again.

_In the shower, it was quite a squeeze._

_Quite frequently there would be a smelly breeze._

_Twenty-eight shampoo bottles reduced down to none,_

_As Hagrid's hair simply had too much to be done._

_So Snape's hair oil was denied its decrease,_

_And before too long everyone became covered in grease._

Then, suddenly, Colin Creevy walked in.

Everyone froze.

Colin made a choking sound, gaped, raised his camera.

Snapped a shot.

Everyone screamed, and he ran.

_At breakfast the next morning…_

"Harry, Harry!"

"Not now, Colin."

"No Harry, please!"

"Colin, I'm busy!"

"You'll _really _like it!"

"I said-"

Colin shoved the photo under Harry's nose. "SLYTHERIN HOUSE ORGY!"

But alas, it was too late.

Harry had fainted.


	5. The Sexy Sex Change

Crabbe purred, prowling forth over the bedsheets like an inelegant cat. Her stomach fell, though Goyle knew she was wearing one of those sexy g-strings behind. But in actual fact, Goyle was turned on by the fact that Crabbe's buttocks and stomach enveloped the sexy black g-string, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Crabbe tossed her head around, whirling her thin, dark hair. Her teeth were showing, and Goyle loved it. In an attempt to be even sexier than she already was, Crabbe made a strangled 'RAWR" sound, baring her teeth and forcing her jaw to be pushed out more than usual. She rubbed her hands down her thighs sensually. Goyle copied her, caressing her own smooth thighs - now completely hairless and cream-white - and Crabbe's stomach rumbled at the sight.

"Hurry up Crabbe!" she squeaked. "You're doing too much foreplay!"

"But baby," Crabbe purred with a wink that made her face lopsided, "You know you like it." She leaned over and shoved Goyle onto her back and licked her stomach. Goyle giggled as Crabbe's tongue slipped in between her fat folds, digging down with a tickling feel. She wriggled her feet, and accidentally kicked Crabbe's arm, though she didn't stop.

"Oh thit!" Crabbe's mouth was locked open in a blowjob shape. "My thungue's thstuck!" She pulled and pulled with all her might to free her tongue from its captor.

But alas, it was too late. Goyle's fat folds were just too deep.


	6. The Steamy Surprise

Halloween was soon approaching, and Crabbe and Goyle were concocting a brilliant plan to frighten (or excite) the rest of the Hogwarts population. Earlier that morning, they had stolen a certain trinket of Hermione's; she had put it down on her desk in Potions class and temporarily left it there to retrieve a batch of silverweed.

'Hey Vincey,' squealed Goyle, 'I've been thinking of something really smart!'

'What's that, Greggy?' Crabbe squeaked back.

'It's time to assert our independence over Draco!'

'Oh, the one who can't control his eyes?'

Draco, beside them, rolled his eyes.

Goyle ignored him and went on, 'Yes! That one! I have a positively BRILLIANT idea!'

Crabbe giggled. 'Oooooh, what is it? Tell me!'

Goyle held up Hermione's object. 'See this?' he said, poking it. 'It's a Time Turner!'

Crabbe frowned. 'I didn't know you could turn time,' he said.

Goyle placed a wet sloppy kiss on Crabbe's nose. He wished he could have kept his lips there, but he needed to convey an important idea across, and that meant eliminating all distractions. (Goyle always did prize himeslf over his intelligence.)

'No silly, it lets us travel back in time! So I've been thinking, before the Halloween dinner we could do anything - absolutely _anything_ - and nobody would realise after we went back in time again!'

The crease between Crabbe's sparse eyebrows deepened. 'Then how would Draco know that we had asserted our independence over him?' he asked.

'Well,' said Goyle, 'think about it! We could do _anything_ we like! We don't need Draco anymore!'

'Oh.' Crabbe thought about it for a moment. He licked his lips; Goyle restrained another large urge to keep kissing him, though he got the slight impression that Draco would probably smack him if he did. 'So... what would we do, Greggy?

'Let's do something really naughty together,' whispered Goyle in a husky voice. Some mucus got caught at the back of his throat, and Crabbe found this even the more arousing.

Crabbe locked his romantic gaze on Goyle. 'Naughty,' he repeated dumbly. Understanding dawned upon him, and a wicked grin spread across his face. 'Oh, naughty. Like taking all our clothes off kind of naughty?'

Turning his back to the pair, Draco's face paled.

'Yes,' grinned Goyle, poking Crabbe affectionately on the pimple at the edge of his nose. '_That_ kind of naughty.'

Crabbe was beginning to imagine what Goyle's mucus would taste like, when an idea sprung within his mind, and he suddenly beamed like a little green frog. 'I have a perfect idea! We have sexy bodies, right?'

'Right!'

'So why don't we show them off to everyone?'

Goyle's eyes widened. 'That, Vincey,' he said slowly, 'is perfect.'

'I know.'

Goyle shook his head several times over and began to pace around the room. The floor creaked below his pudgy feet.

'Yes!' he exclaimed in an excited voice. 'I've got it! Before the dinner we can run up to the front of the Hall where Dumbledore and the fat man sits, stand up on their tables, take off all our clothes and do a little dance. Then we'll go back in time and nobody except for us would realise what naughty boys we've been!'

'Oh my gosh,' gushed Crabbe. 'The Dark Lord would be so proud of us. Wait, what was the fat man's name again?'

Goyle frowned. 'Gagrid? Bagrid?'

'Shagrid?'

'HAGRID!' Draco suddenly bellowed, hands clamped over his ears.

'That's the one!' exclaimed Goyle. 'Hagrid! Do you think, Vincey, even HE would be aroused?'

Crabbe smiled hungrily. 'Of course he would. In fact, who _wouldn't_ be aroused by our sexy fat jiggles?'

He performed a dance on the spot, demonstrating how the waves his great rolls of fat flew through the air. However, he was interrupted by Professor Snape's entrance.

Snape walked in, saw Crabbe's performance and froze. Sheepishly, Crabbe brought it to an abrupt close. He had never intended to arouse his potions teacher, only Goyle (and maybe Draco).

'What in the name of Merlin,' said Snape tightly, 'are you three doing in my dungeon?'

Draco sprung to his feet. 'I'll be out, Professor,' he drawled, and swiftly left the room.

Snape turned back to Crabbe and Goyle, eyeing them closely. They quickly held hands. 'You know you're not supposed to be in here without my permission?' he said darkly.

They exchanged sheepish looks. 'But, Professor, we were just -'

'Ten points from Slytherin,' Snape said, not looking sorry to deduct it at all. 'Now get out. If I find you in here again it will be a detention!'

Crabbe and Goyle wouldn't really have minded serving detention together. They could think of many interesting ways to incorporate sponges and dusters in their sexy routine (provided that the objects didn't disappear into their fat folds). But they finished the encounter with simultaneous glares at Snape and skipped out the dungeon, hand in hand, to finalise the Halloween dinner plan that would happen the following night.

As always on Halloween, the Great Hall was decorated in floating pumpkins, and the tables were lined in unusual, yet wonderful arrangements of food. Since they were about to act out their plan as soon as Dumbledore stood up to give his speech, Crabbe and Goyle took to stuffing their faces with as much of it as they possibly could before they ran out of time.

Draco rolled his eyes.

The tinkering of a wine glass brought the school's attention to the front of the Hall. Dumbledore stood up, stroking his beard with a large beam. 'Welcome to the annual Halloween Feast!' he boomed, raising his arms up in an inviting gesture.

'NOW!' hissed Goyle.

Crabbe replied with a delighted grin and lick of his lips, 'Okay!'

As swift as serpents, the two jumped out from their seats and began their simultaneously dramatic and tiresome run to the front of the Hall.

'Oh god,' muttered Draco, watching as they arrived in front of Dumbledore. The elderly wizard had halted in his speech; he was staring at the pair of them with a curious surprise.

Then, to everyone's horror, Crabbe and Goyle started stripping. Layer after layer, they pulled off their robes, until finally they were standing in their underwear, beaming hysterically at the traumatised students before them.

Then Goyle yelled, 'HAPPY HALLOWEEN, SUCKERS!'

Crabbe howled with laughter. 'NONE OF YOU ARE GOING TO REMEMBER THIS!'

And then, in unison, they pulled off their underwear, dancing under Dumbledore's nose and flaunting their fat folds in his face. He himself looked rather amused. Everyone else in the Great Hall was speechless, all glaring with their mouths agape - except for Draco, who muttered, 'My father will hear about this...'

Goyle reached into the pocket of his robes (which were now being trampled by Crabbe's squishy feet) and extracted the small golden Time Turner.

'AND NOW,' he announced loudly. 'WE WILL USE THIS TIME TURNER TO TRAVEL BACK IN TIME, AND YOU WILL FORGET THIS EVER HAPPENED!'

Across the Hall, Hermione stood up in her seat, probably about to protest that it was hers, that it had gone missing off her Potions desk the previous day, that they'd stolen it - when suddenly Goyle's gleeful smile was completely wiped from his face.

He realised, in one big faltering moment, that their plan had all gone wrong.

'What is it?' whispered Crabbe awkwardly from beside him, evidently becoming embarrassed about exposing his fat folds - and no one (except Goyle), in turn, becoming aroused.

But alas, it was too late.

They didn't know how to work the Time Turner.


End file.
